


A tale of Two Princes

by Kibbles



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Galra Keith (Voltron), Galra!Keith, Homesick Lance (Voltron), Lotor (Voltron) - Freeform, M/M, Mentioned Zarkon (Voltron), Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Not Beta Read, Prince Keith (Voltron), Prince Lance (Voltron), Slow Burn, altean!lance, haggar (Voltron) - Freeform, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-06-27 16:45:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15689382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kibbles/pseuds/Kibbles
Summary: Once upon a time, two species coexisting in harmony found a crystal capable of producing enough energy to sustain the needs of their planets and inhabitant. Decades passed as people of Altea and Galra harvested the Quintessence and mastered its use for various purposes. Healing, longevity and a formidable source of power, the possibilities were limitless! One day, however, the crystal disappeared, leaving them to their demises as they watched their planet wither with the stocks of crystal decreasing rapidly.The Emperor of Galra had grown greedy, and the witch at his side filled his head with lies until he refused to share what remained of the crystals with the people of Altea. Declaring war upon them, he began colonizing other planets, forcing its inhabitants to harvest and give him all the Quintessence.The Great War lasted for millions of years until one day, when the ruler of Altea offered the hand of his youngest son to the Emperor's son as a peace offering. Their union was to become a symbol of peace and the beginning of a new era. One where no planet was to suffer. One where any creature was to be happy and free.And in that utopic world, why would no one consider how Lance felt?





	1. First night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kamwashere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamwashere/gifts).



> Hello and welcome for a new adventure!  
> I recently made a Tumblr where I will be posting snippets and such, I will also happily take requests so please feel free to message me there! ( https://nuage-s-den.tumblr.com/) While browsing around I found someone who asked for a Prince!Keith/Prince!Lance arranged marriage and I was struck by the inspiring lightning aaaand... This is where we are now!  
> I am working on two other pieces at the same time, I am not sure how long this story will be, I do have a basic idea of what will happen but you can always motivate me by asking a few random situations!  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the ride, I am super thankful you chose to give it a try!

"Lance, don't you think you're overreacting a little?"

The prince' sigh echoed in the phone, sounding almost like a scream in her ears. "You don't get it, sis! It's not fair that Father gets to decide who gets my hand without my say. I don't even know the guy. Quiznak, I looked all over the archives for a picture of him, and I didn't even found his name mentioned anywhere." The Altean's voice pressed on the last word. "What if he's ugly?"

That earned a chocked laughter from the other line. Allura, Lance's older sister, knew that no matter what she said it wouldn't be enough to satisfy her brother. "Lance, your alliance will bring peace to the universe. You're not even giving him one chance to prove himself."

Lance's blue eyes rolled so hard she could almost picture it. "I'm not like you, sis, yes I care about bringing peace and all, but I would like to be at least allowed to choose one thing in my life."

And here Allura could hear the change of tone, the pain, and insecurities creeping into his brother's voice. She felt her heart ache; she wanted to take him in her arms and rock him gently like they used to do back when their duties weren't as important and time-consuming. "I understand little brother, but what if he is actually a good guy? Look at how well my marriage ended."

Lance scoffed. Loudly. "You can't do that to me. You knew Terminator ever since you two were kids." He heard her asking annoyingly not to call Shiro like that, but he opted to ignore her. "You remember what old Babaan used to tell us? Galrans have no manners, and if you lay with one, you will get hives all over your body. I don't want to get hives, Allura!" She could hear him rant about his so well cared for skin, and how an allergic reaction could ruin years of hard work.

"Listen, Lance; I know it is hard and scary. I know you don't like changes, but if you don't go out there and meet the prince, you'll never know if it will work out. You're a smart boy, and I know father would never put you in danger. Please trust his choices and at least give him a chance?"

There was a long silence. Then a sigh. "Okay. I will. But you better keep your phone next to you, and if I don't like him I want you to help me get out of this!"

Allura smiled, she was not sure how things were going to go, especially knowing how her brother was, but she was satisfied with his answer. "I promise. Now go and meet him."

The line cut and Lance was left staring at the screen of his talking device. The servants had made sure to make him look extra beautiful for today's ceremony. His jewelry reflected the glow of his Altean symbols, and while he loved his outfit very much, he had already decided to burn it down once the night was over.

Dragging his feet, he walked into the room where Galran and Altean meddled. At first, he kept to himself in a corner, observing the strangers faces and trying to figure out which one would be his soon to be. His eyes jumped from one face to another, his inner voice commenting on any flaws he could find. Too tall. Too ugly. Too much hair. Not enough hair. Too buff. Weird feet. Ew, what is that between his teeth?

He was so focused on his private hunt that he didn't notice someone stand next to him and jumped when the other commented. "Boring event isn't it?" Lance looked up to the person who had just spoken to him. A Galra, he noted. Short purple fur covered his body; ears perked up on his head that moved to catch as much noise as they could. Yellow eyes were staring ahead, observing the crowd impassively. The young man was tall, taller than Lance who always prided himself in being on the taller spectrum for Alteans. His hands were behind his back, and he stood straight.

And, _oooh, Caliente_.

That was a word he had read in one of those romantic novels from Earth; he found it particularly fitting when he looked at the nice muscles enveloped in the Galra's black armour. While it probably was padded, Lance was pretty sure most of what he could see was real.

And then he realized he was gaping in front of the stranger like a kid in front of a candy shop. Quickly, he straightened himself and acted unphased. "Yes. I quite dislike it." The comment brought the situation back to his mind. "If someone could take my hand and ask me to leave, I would run away without looking back."   
He could feel curious eyes on him, but no words came out of the other male. At least, not until he looked back ahead. "Would it make things better if we took a walk in the gardens?"

Lance couldn't believe his ears. He wasn't sure if the Galra was flirting, or if he was genuinely caring about his well-being. The prince didn't know if this was some trap or prank, or if the man knew who he was and who he would soon become. But this was all in the future, and he wanted to enjoy the last bit of freedom he was allowed for now. "I would very much like that." The Altean smiled, accepting his arm to grab onto the other. The fur felt soft between his fingers, and somehow he had all forgotten about the possible allergic reaction.

They walked silently; the brouhaha of the party grew more and more deem until it became just a faint noise in the background. They looked at the moons and the stars, at the flowers blooming only at night and at the castle sparkling with so many lights. They spoke of various subjects, the Galra listened and asked him questions, and it made Lance feel valued. He laughed and laughed and laughed. Lance told him about his friends, about the things he wanted to see in the world. It was as if he was on one of his books, and this Galra had saved him from the harsh reality. Maybe if he asked him nicely, he would take him far away from his golden cage?

But reality dawned on him, and he couldn't help but look down. He was surprised no one was sent to search for him as he knew a Varga or two had passed since him and the stranger had stepped outside. Surely, they couldn't have forgotten about him, not this time. He was supposed to meet his soon to be a husband; he was supposed to spend that evening getting to know him and not some random guy who would probably get his head cut off if they were found.

Unless...

"What is it, Prince Lance?" He had told his name to the man at some point but never had he introduced himself. "You seem concerned."

"Tell me," the Altean prince started as wide blue eyes met yellows. "What is your name?"

A faint smile appeared on the Galra's face, and Lance felt his heart race the more ticks passed and the more the realization sunk in.

"My name is Keith, prince of the Galran and second to the throne. "


	2. Second night

Lance laid awake in his bed. Blankly staring at the window on the ceiling, he recollected the events of the last evening.

 

Soon after the Galra introduced himself, one of the King's guard ushered them back to the castle. Lance met his father's scolding glare and quickly looked down. He could feel the King was displeased with him delaying the ceremony; the young prince wished he could explain himself, but he knew all too well that it would only result in unnecessary spluttering. Somehow, Lance always felt like his father preferred Allura to him, and that no matter what he did he would never be able to reach the expectation he had of him. He recognized that he wasn't as noble nor as serious as she was. Where she would act like a future Queen, he would get into trouble playing pranks with the children of the townspeople. When she listened to the people's complains, he would sneak out of the study to dance and sing with the lower folks. Lance had tried to tell him, to prove his King that even if he wasn't following the rules, he worked just as hard as his sister to help the Altean. Instead of giving him a chance, his father had yelled at him, calling him names that hurt his feelings and telling him he had to grow up. 

And now this was his chance to prove he could do something right.

Quickening his pace while keeping an elegant stance, Lance looked at the altar he used to adore so much. Growing up, he often begged the storyteller to share the tale of the two lovers turned into willow trees - offering their bodies in exchange for a fertile earth to grow life upon. It was believed that their souls had remained, and the joined branches were their last embrace being forever immortalized. It became a tradition for Alteans to marry under the trees and ask for their blessing so future generations would live in a peaceful land. 

The young prince sighed. Oh, how he had dreamed of standing there one day, how he had watched with awe when Allura and Shiro exchanged vows and walked through the green leaves covered in the fresh morning spring dew. Sadly for him, he didn't get to chose neither when nor with whom he was going to marry and the season had turned the leaves in hues of red, orange and yellow. Lance felt the presence of the Galra next to him, his heart began to race harder in his chest.   
An older Altean with violet markings stood in front of the two princes, she sang words Lance had memorized years ago but couldn't focus on now that they were destined to him. She asked for their hands, which she tied together with a green coloured cloth. 

"Prince Lance of Altea, Prince Keith of Galra. Aizen and Eidan are watching over the young love blooming between you two."

What love? Lance asked himself. He refrained himself from saying it out loud, but he could feel the frown forming on his face.

"By tying your hands together, you agree to merge your souls and become one. You shall work together, and learn from the struggles to come."

Lance's hands twitched, he didn't want to agree to anything. He didn't want to become one with a stranger. Even less with the son of an Emperor who had tried to annihilate his people. Discretely, he eyed the other man. The Galra probably didn't want to be there too, he probably hated it. Maybe he hated Lance also. Keith appeared composed if only a little tense, his eyes were set on the woman and suddenly Lance wondered if the Galra was more into the opposite sex. This situation was definitely messed up, not only for him but for the Galra prince too.

"Now, as one, you must cross the altar and receive the blessings of Aizen and Eidan. May a beautiful future awaits you on the other side." The woman smiled fondly and stepped aside as she bowed her head. 

This was going to bring peace, Lance tried to convince himself, this was going to be the start of a new era. No matter what his mind told him, he shouldn't run away. He couldn't. He mustn't.

Instruments were being played from behind them. Lance felt his heartbeat echoing the drum, intense and heavy with each boom. He recognized the string instruments playing their parts, the flute timely adding a couple notes here and there. He could almost mouth the words that kids were beginning to chant. Just like he had done many times before. 

No, he couldn't be selfish and deprive his people of the peace they deserved.

Taking a deep breath in, he took the first step forward and felt Keith stumble ever so slightly before they crossed the altar together. Flowers as big as Lance's palm began to fall from the branches. Keith looked at them in awe, he caught one with his free hand and proceeded to observe the delicate petals. 

Odd, Keith thought. He had never seen blooming flowers among the Autumn coloured leaves before. Maybe this was due to some kind of magic?

The white petals reminded Keith of the Altean prince's hair. It felt soft and reflected the moonshine slightly. He wondered if Lance's hair were as agreeable to the touch. Yet yellow eyes opened ever so slightly as he registered tears running down the prince's cheeks.   
Lance kept his face slightly turned away, not wanting to meet anyone's gaze. The Altean prince had felt a lump form in his throat as soon as they stepped between the trees. He felt angry, he felt sad, he already missed the freedom he had left behind. He missed the past and feared for the future.   
The Galra prince watched, he wasn't good with words, but he understood why the Altean was upset. Without saying anything, he began to undo the cloth and felt shy blue eyes set on him. 

"Big brother Lance! Why are you crying?" Lance's head jerked toward the childish voice. Looking up to them, three little kids were standing with their arms full of the flowers they had gathered from the ground. 

Quickly, Lance wiped his tears and smiled. "Those are just happy tears." He crouched down in front of the little one who had asked the question and gently patted its head. Ryuno, he recalled, and its brothers Qiu and Rime. "I am just so happy to know everyone will be safe from now on. We won't be losing any more of our families to war, there won't be any more sorrows. And that beautiful future is what makes me weep." The toothed smile he received made Lance feel a little better. If sacrificing his freedom meant innocent lives were going to be spared of the harshness of war, then he would do it again and again and again. If it said he could see smiles on his peoples' faces, then maybe everything would be okay. 

 

... Or that's what he had thought back then.

 

Laying on his bed, looking at the stars through the ceiling of the ship, he wasn't sure this was really what he wanted. Once they landed on Galra, he would have to go through their ceremony and kiss goodbye to his freedom forever. He wondered what the wedding would be like. Old Babaan had mentioned their marriages were more savage, that blood needed to be shed, or it would bring misfortune to the couple. The young prince swallowed nervously. Whose blood was it going to be? A beast? His? Were they going to cut off one of his fingers? Or maybe one of his ears?

Rolling over on his bed multiple times, Lance couldn't shake the growing anxiety inside of him. A part of him was glad he had been allowed one more sleep on his own, but a much bigger side of him cried for contact. He needed someone to hold him, he needed someone to rock him gently and tell him things would be okay. Someone to sing to him, to help him breathe.

But among all these stars and planets, among all the people praying for him to cease the war and even as he was in a small room on a giant ship containing hundreds of lives... He felt all alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first ceremony happened, only one more to go until they are officially united. Lance is trying his best not to run away and accept the situation. Next chapter will show how Keith is handling things.  
> Once again, if you would like to discuss anything or would like to give me a prompt for these two lion cubs, you can either talk to me in the comments or on my Tumblr. :)


	3. Before the ceremony

Keith couldn't sleep.

His thoughts were heavy with the past events which had scared Morpheus away. Unable to lay down and do nothing but think, the young Galra headed to the training room. Activating a control panel, his fingers swiftly glided over the holographic screen as he picked the type of simulation he wanted to work on. Level difficulty? Hard. Kind of enemies? Close combat. Type of arena? Ravies. Weapon of choice? His blade suddenly called for murder.

Once the questionnaire was over the control panel disappeared, and the prince headed to the center of the room which began to metamorphose into a deserted-looking environment. His steps created small clouds of dust, and his ears picked on the sound of a few rocks falling not far from him. Unsheathing his blade and making it grow into a sword-sized weapon, he rushed toward the first dummy. It was about his size and wore a lavender coloured armour. As the android' sword countered his offence, his mind processed what had happened on the Altean planet.

He thought of his fiance-it felt so odd to refer to a stranger by that word-of the way he talked with enthusiasm and how his hands moved as he explained sayings that were foreign to the Galra. Keith had quickly realized that Lance didn't know who he was while they headed to the garden. He thought the Altean was too trusting, too relaxed. He could have easily tricked him by bringing him away from the crowd. He could have easily killed him.   
On his way to Altea, Keith had seriously considered the option of killing him. After all, he didn't care about his people like Lance did. Besides, it would have been an excellent opportunity to win the war. And yet instead of murdering the guy, Keith had listened to the Altean speaking fondly about the townsfolks, about the staff working at the castle. Lance never referred to them as servants or slaves, to him they were part of his family.

 

The dummy fell as the Keith removed his sword off of its chest. At the same time, his ears picked on the whistling produced by a projectile heading his way. Sidestepping to his left, he avoided a bullet that would have hit his scapula had he not heard it coming. His eyes scanned the surroundings, and he noticed the sun's reflection on one of the enemy's scope. Keith hid behind a fallen rock and looked over his shoulder. Heading straight to the enemy would be pointless since he wouldn't be able to avoid multiple bullets out in the open. His eyes set on a small opening in the ravine, he could take cover there and figure a way to climb to the top of the cliff. From up there, he would have a better chance to take down the Sniper. Confident on his plan, Keith waited for the other to reload to run out of behind his hideout and reach the fissure. It was narrower than he had expected, his body barely fitting. Whatever, he thought, that would make his climbing a lot easier.

As his hand experimented the stability of various aretes, the word "family" came back to his mind.  
This was such a foreign concept to him. He didn't know about his birth parents much, his mother had disappeared from his life when he was too young to remember, and Keith often wondered if she was dead or if she was participating in the war. Sometimes, Keith daydreamed of the possibility that maybe he had crossed her path multiple times in his life without ever recognizing her.  
His father was a traveller from a different planet who remained in Galra to raise him as best as he could after Keith was born. To sustain the needs of his growing child, he had to sell and trade parts of his travelling ship. They were poor, but they were happy together, and Keith learned to read the stars with his dad.

On his eighth birthday, a drunk veteran decided to cause trouble to the small family. Keith couldn't remember the origin of the argument, just that he had stood his ground against the much older alien who became mad enough to point his gun at the child's head. Keith's father tried to resonate with him, giving his son's enough time to run before the sound of a gunshot echoed behind the boy. Keith still remembers how long he ran that day, biting his lips bloody, tears running down his cheeks and the muscles aching in his legs. He didn't dare look back for fear of what he would see and only returned on the scene two nights later. While the remaining scraps of their ship had been denuded of anything that was worthy of something, his father's body had been left lying in the middle of the alley. Cold to the touch and unresponsive, the young boy knew he was now on his own. Keith took the small blade his father kept hidden inside his boot and swore to find the murderer and make him pay.

 

Running on the top of the cliff seemed relatively easy but what the Galra hadn't considered the possibility of having an opponent wielding a giant axe ambush him. Keith had barely enough time to put his blade in between them, the strength of the other causing the ground to crack under his feet. Whew, that was a close call. The enemy pushed further, and if Keith didn't move fast, he swore he would end up chopped in half. Spinning over himself, he managed to move his body away, and for a split second, the opponent lost its balance. Taking that opportunity to strike, Keith let his blade hit the other's shoulder hard enough to cut down its circuits. Small sparks of electricity leaked out of the wound and without waiting any longer, the Galra cut through the android's neck. Keith heard the metallic body hit the ground behind him as he ran to the end of the cliff until he was just above the sniper and jumped with a scream.

 

Years passed as Keith grew in the streets of Waartyung town. He had fought many battles, some over scraps of food, shelter or some water to wash off the blood of his clothes. Accepting various odd jobs, he spent his teenage years gathering pieces of information about the drunk Galra that had killed his father. He learned that his target was a general working under the Emperor himself, a real piece of shit who released his anger by drinking and hurting innocents. On a particular bounty hunt, Keith had learned that the general had a thing for younger males of his species. The adolescent spent the next week planning his revenge. First, he found out where his target liked to hang out when not at work. He asked the baristas which drinks were his favourite and the exotic dancers which traits the general looked for in his partners. Once Keith showed that he had some currency on hand-enough to make a banker blush-both the baristas and dancers happily answered each question with as many details as they could. Another week passed with Keith observing the Galra at a distance. On the eleventh day, he decided to strike.

 

More of the dummies succumbed to his anger. Panting and covered in sweat and dirt, his body began to feel tired, but his mind was still too preoccupied. He needed a more prominent opponent that would force him to give it his all.   
As if to answer his wish, Keith felt the floor quake under his feet before a giant gecko-looking beast appeared. Its body was long, mostly black with some red markings on its flanks. It opened its mouth wide, revealing two rows of sharp teeth and three long tongues. Its eyes locked onto Keith and were filled with an insatiable hunger. Keith braced himself, his grip on the blade's handle and, with a loud scream, he ran toward the monster. The beast's skin was surprisingly thick and slimy; it stuck to the sharp side of the blade, and the warrior found himself struggling to pull it free.

 

On the eleventh day, Keith wasn't able to stand and watch anymore. The general was talking loudly, a cup in his hand, about the many aliens he had killed. Among the list, he described one that fitted perfectly the adolescent's father. Keith saw red. While he had been miraculously patient all of that time, rage took over his body, and he stood from where he was sitting. He had to kill him. He had to kill him now.   
Forgetting all his meticulous planning, the scenario he had played in his head every night for a week and a half, he took his father's blade out of his jacket, spun around and plunged it on his prey's throat. There was a sound of glass shattering, of blood spluttering out, a sickening gurgle coming out of the general's throat but at that time Keith felt deaf. He had done it. He had avenged his father's death.   
Letting go of his hold, the general's body bent forward and fell ungracefully against the counter. After a few ticks and getting a good look at the dead alien, Keith turned around his heels and left the bar, ignoring the whispers around him.

 

A tongue hit Keith on his triceps, lifting him in the air and threw him against the rocky wall. Losing his breath at the collision, he felt the rocks leaving angry rashes on his back as he slid down to the ground. The Galra cursed under his breath and, as he attempted to push himself up, he noticed his arm was gone.  
Alright, so maybe the simulation was a little more hardcore than he had initially planned. If this were a real battle, Keith would have lost his arm to the gecko's stomach. Keith struggled to get back up to his feet as he realized the pain in his chest. Not only had he lost an arm which gave him phantom pain, but the shock absorbed by his body had fractured a rib or two, and now he had trouble catching his breath.

 

Keith should have known that going after a fleet general and murdering the guy would make him an enemy to the empire. Finding himself nose to nose with a poorly drawn portrait of himself surprised him as if he hadn't expected the outcome of his bloody murder. Keith felt as if every set of eyes suddenly were on him and the whispers grew louder behind him. Those people didn't understand, he had brought justice-he had killed a murderer, and these ungrateful Waartyungans were treating him like a war criminal. Zarkon wanted his head? Fine, but he wouldn't give it for free. Tearing the poster out, Keith decided he would pay a visit to the Emperor instead of waiting around.   
It took several months of intel gatherings, of watching the to-ing and fro-ing of cargos, sentinels, and ships until Keith felt ready to infiltrate the Emperor's domain. Exchanging a copious amount of money with one of the shady sellers in the black market, the young half-Galran got his hands on a perfect replica of a soldier's armour. Wearing it, he was able to blend among the sentinels and entered the massive ship without much difficulty.  
The challenging part was not to get lost in the maze-like corridors. He couldn't simply ask the other Galrans how to get to Zarkon's room, and wandering around would unquestionably bring undesired attention. No, Keith had to be smarter than that.

The sound of machines being crunched by the beast echoed in the desert. From his hideout, Keith could see the monster devouring the slain enemies. Even if he knew it was all an illusion, Keith felt his hair stand up as the noise coming from the starving giant sent shivers down his spine. Wounded as he was, Keith knew the chances of winning were slim if he didn't think of a plan and act quickly.

 

Planning Zarkon's murder took longer than Keith expected. Not only the Emperor was closely guarded, but he had a phenomenal strength which was supported by the Witch's magic. In the enemy territory, Keith couldn't trust any of the other soldiers, even the ones who dared speak ill of their leader. Most of his time was spent listening to the soldiers' conversation and following orders coming from various generals. During his infiltration, he learned about the war raging in the galaxy, the thirst for Quintessence that caused the Emperor to turn his back to former allies. There were rumours about a past relationship between Lord Zarkon and the witch as well as talks about their prodigious son, Prince Lotor, who had been banned from the fleet after disobeying his father's orders. Annoyingly, no one talked about the Emperor's weaknesses; Keith suspected the soldiers were too scared to lose their lives if their talks fell into the wrong set of ears.

What Keith didn't realize, however, was that he too was being closely watched. Through his stay in the fleet, he had quickly shown his ability to lead and complete missions. He was considered mysterious, and at first, some suspected he might have been mute as he did not participate in conversations much. When sparring, Keith was quick to adapt to his opponent's strength and almost always picked on their weaknesses. One day, the Emperor requested his attendance at the main room. Keith was wary but obliged, he bent the knee in front of the Emperor and noticed the Witch at his side. She was staring coldly at him and began to explain the reason behind him being summoned. He had apparently impressed the Emperor and was offered one of the most active positions in the Galran army. Keith accepted the role and smirked as he knew gaining the Emperor's trust would increase his chances of murdering him. However, Keith slowly lost focus on his original goal as the layers of the Emperor shed the more time they spent together, and Keith discovered a different version of the imposing Galra. Working under his direct order, he felt a bond form between his superior and him. He was aware of the Witch's cold glares, of her bottled up anger when Lord Zarkon told her to mind her place when she advised him not to get too fond of the boy. It felt as if Keith was taking something precious away from her, and to the Witch's and his surprise, the Emperor once commented on how he saw Keith as the son Lotor was never able to become.

And here he was now.

About to marry a weakling who only thought about the well-being of his people. Keith thought of Lance's expressive eyes. From the way, they shined when filled with tears, to how they closed when he laughed at his own comments. Keith was reminded of the how Lance's eyes widened slightly when King Alfor told him he wouldn't be accompanying him for the journey to his new home. A few ticks later, and Lance told him he understood his reasoning-the King couldn't leave a planet when it needed its leader-but still, making the trip alone had saddened the Altean even more. Keith felt his own feelings fall down his stomach; he knew the impression of abandon better than anyone. At that moment, he would have liked to yell at the King. Keith only knew Lance for a few Vargas, but the Altean was as easy to read as an open book; his father's announcement scratched at the scab weakly covering some deep wound. Thinking back about it made Keith angrier. He felt like screaming. He felt like his body would burst into flame if his anger weren't released right away.

 

Keith cleared his mind of all thoughts. On that instant, he forgot about Prince Lance. He forgot about the weddings, about the future and his past. Keith freed his mind until he even forgot who he was. His ears moved slightly, catching on the breathing pattern of the oversized gecko. His body could feel the rumbling as it took heavy steps. He waited for it to open its mouth, and, as soon as the tongues propelled out, he elongated his sword and cut them in half. The reptile screamed, pulling itself back and twisting his body as it prepared to run away. It was too late. Keith's body moved with increasing speed, and he landed on the creature's back. Keith's body language reflected his desire to kill. Pupils slit, eyes wide and toothy grin, he plunged his weapon into the prey's neck. He heard his blade savouring flesh as it tore through muscles and nerves. The gecko let out another cry before collapsing.

With the simulation coming to an end, Keith recovered his arm-not that it had really gone anywhere, the training program was just really good at tricking the mind.

 

Keith's thoughts now clear, he walked out of the room to prepare himself for the final ceremony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've come to realize that I will never truly be satisfied with this chapter. At least I enjoyed working on the fighting scene!  
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you like it! :)


End file.
